Today's topic is one that I'm not really fond of. The truth is that I hate falling apart, I really hate falling apart in public. I hate not being able to have control over my emotions. There were alot of Sundays to start with that the anxiety of so many people was too much, and the pain too raw. I had a place in the flowerbed at Church I would go and sit behind the shrubs, till I had a handle on myself and could go in and eat lunch.
There were days that I could fall apart because I had too much to do. I still had three other very little children at home, that for some reason, still wanted to eat three times a day, who couldn't pour milk without dumping most of the gallon out everywhere. Then there were other days that I told Gary before he even left for work, before the kids were even up, that we weren't going to be doing school that day. Both make you feel guilty.
There were also alot of nights, that I would talk at Gary, and then cry myself to sleep. I thankfully haven't had one of those nights in almost 2 months. It has made me feel better to talk with Gary about things, but I try not to, too often, because it doesn't help him. Nothing changes, nothing is magically fixed, and I suppose it makes him feel helpless or inadequate in someway.